I Look For You
glimmers of grief amidst moments of life, 9 years later
I look for you in every dragonfly, and hope you’re in there.
I look for you at the beach when I pick up shells and remember that you didn’t like them because your father didn’t either.
I look for you in the lyrics of your favorite songs, and in songs you will never hear.
I look for you in the sounds of 60s music that I can just picture you singing if you had stuck with choir.
I look for you when I plan my birthdays and remember all the invitations we would hand make together.
I look for you when I splurge on a luxury purchase because you always said, “money is for spending.”
I look for you when I’m having a bad day.
I try not to look for you when I take someone home after a date when they’re not yet my capital b Boyfriend.
I try not to look for you when I feel resentful towards someone because I know all the grudges you kept only exacerbated your cancer.
I try not to look for you when someone tells me “that never happened” about a childhood memory I hold dear, and yet that’s exactly when I want to look for you the most.
I looked for you at graduation, because it was as much my achievement as it was yours.
I look for you every day in the mirror.
I look for you when I wear your jewelry.
I look for you on May 1st and August 25th.
I try not to look for you on Mother’s Day, just because it hurts too much.
Xx,
Maia
This piece was originally written on May 22, 2025 as part of the writing workshop Unmute Yourself with Ann Randolph.
Love you endlessly, Maia. Because of that, I feel like I love your mother, too. I don't know which threads of yours are hers but I love them all.
This specifically resonated: I look for you when I plan my birthdays and remember all the invitations we would hand make together.
Because I feel honored to be a recipient of your handwritten cards and invitations. They were already, intrinsically, meaningful - but now they hold a new significance for me, as well. Love you, thank you for sharing your heart.